My first yoga class was about 15 or 16 years ago (at the time of writing this). It is a bit hard to remember it all, but I do remember being bored. I was a mega gym junkie at the time and in the Beginning or denial phase of my eating disorder. I was all about having control over my body and my diet and everything had to be intense. My first yoga class was at the gym I went to. I think the only reason I went was because the woman I was working for (I was an au pair) suggested it.
It was boring because I didn’t get the point of sitting and breathing, I just wanted the class to chew up calories perhaps.
I cannot remember my second yoga class, but I did start volunteering for a studio in exchange for classes when I moved to Montreal. The classes were in French and English at the same time. I went to some good ones and bizarre chanting type of ones. I was living in my head and not in my body.
My eating disorder slowly drifted away after a long time, and I believe that the practice of slowing down and tuning in made me make better subtle decisions in life. Especially the decision to not feel guilty about eating anything. The whole practice is personal. Dis-eases are personal. Spirituality is personal. Listening inward is an art.
I thought I wasn’t ego-centric because I didn’t have any confidence. I thought so lowly of myself, I assumed that was being humble. I realised that my self-shame was very ego centric and my true nature is open and spacious, and that includes all of the quirks and agitations and nervousness and humanness that arises.
Over many years of loving and obsessing about the subject of yoga, it Is like taking one step at a time towards Belonging. We all belong on this earth because we are all here.
I so don’t read blogs and I assume no one would have read down this far to this last sentence. I just felt like writing this.